


Soulmates

by bavarian_angel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Ghosts, Guilt, Heartbreak, Heaven, Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:40:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23716078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bavarian_angel/pseuds/bavarian_angel
Summary: Dean's life would never be the same after entering the Roadhouse for the first time.My version of Dean and Jo's story...
Relationships: Jo Harvelle/Dean Winchester
Comments: 3
Kudos: 33





	Soulmates

**Author's Note:**

> My first Supernatural fic, I hope you will like it! And yes, I will go down with this ship!

Pain. That would always be the association of the day, the moment, he had met her for the first time. Blinding pain after he had unarmed her only a second beforehand. Right away, Dean knew that Jo wasn’t like any other girl he had met before.

~*~

Despite cooling it with the icepack Ellen had given him, Dean’s nose still felt like it had been split in two. However, it didn’t stop him checking out Jo when she passed him behind the bar. Those jeans were really low on her hips...

Taking a sip from the water Jo had poured them earlier, wishing it was whiskey or any other high percentage liquid to numb that whirlwind of emotions deep inside him - he was successfully ignoring it since he had watched those doctors fighting for his father’s life in vain - Dean got up and approached the girl while she was cleaning some of the tables.

Jo fitted his type of girls, sexy in her very own way. He couldn’t hide the smile on his face when she looked down at him with those big, dark eyes. It was like looking into a deep well - deep and mysterious. It didn’t stop him hitting on her with the best words he could come up with right now; only stopping himself in the next second.

Dean had no idea why, but somehow it felt wrong.

“Wrong place, wrong time...”

When Jo basically called him out in the next moment on his cheap pick up line, Dean couldn’t help himself, but feel embarrassed, knowing very well that for Jo he was just another hunter trying to get into her pants.

Maybe he was a scumbag after all. And Jo didn’t do scumbags. She knew she deserved better.

~*~

“Am I gonna see you again?”

“Do you want to?”

“I wouldn’t hate it...”

~*~

Dean didn’t do REO Speedwagon. Maybe right time, but definitely wrong style. Any type of that kind of music didn’t come within a mile of his cassette collection. And yet here he was, singing out loud the words that were stuck in his head. No one though - no monster, no demon - could make him admit that he was thinking about a very particular blonde girl...

_“And even as I wander, I’m keeping you in sight. You’re a candle in the window, on a cold, dark winter’s night. And I’m getting closer than I ever thought I might...”_

~*~

“You did good out there...”

“But...?”

“No but.”

They were packing their stuff in the apartment where they had held their base camp in Philadelphia. Not even half an hour ago, they had sealed the tunnel with concrete, making sure H.H. Holmes’ ghost would never harm another woman again.

Sam had gone down to the Impala, caring their heavy gear, leaving Dean and Jo to finish up upstairs. Picking up his leather jacket, Dean watched Jo as she looked at her father’s knife before stuffing it inside her bag.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

He just about managed to bring his eyes up from her jeans clad butt and look right at her. For a short moment, their eyes met and Dean felt like looking right into Jo’s heart, not liking the traces of fear he saw in them.

Jo’s lips moved; he could clearly see that she wanted to say something, but in the end she just gently shook her head, the slight frown disappearing from her face, replaced by a smile that didn’t seem completely genuine to Dean.

“Thank you...”

She didn’t specify for what, but Dean surely didn’t move when Jo suddenly wrapped her arms around him. For a brief moment, he could feel her warm body against his own, smell that scent that was so uniquely Jo to him as he buried his face into the crown of her head. Before he managed an answer though, or any other response as his body had frozen up on him, Jo pulled back again. For another second or so, her arm lingered on his, his hand still on her back, as the door to the apartment suddenly opened.

Neither of them needed to look up to know that it was Ellen standing there, her face in a mixture of anger, worry and relief when she saw them. Behind her, Sam could only look on in silent apology while Dean and Jo hurried to get some space between them

Whatever had been in the air for that short moment, had disappeared and had been replaced by a coldness radiating from Ellen. They all knew that it would be one very long ride back to Nebraska.

~*~

More than once, Dean tried to ring Jo’s phone, but she never picked up. He only learned from Ellen that she had packed her stuff and was gone.

~*~

Passing the road sign for Duluth, Dean cursed under his breath. Without a computer, he couldn’t track Sam’s phone. Finding his brother in this city would literally be the search for the needle in the haystack. Shortly after passing the city limits, he pulled into a gas station. He had to start somewhere...

After paying for the gas at the cashier, Dean lingered. He didn’t even have a current picture of Sam that he could show the guy behind the counter.

“This might sound like a stupid question to you, but you didn’t happen to see a young man, taller than me...? Wavy brown hair... possibly asking for menthol cigarettes?”

At first the elderly guy just looked at him as if he had just escaped the loony bin, before letting out a raspy laugh.

“Funny you’re asking... He actually passed through about two hours ago.”

Dean swallowed down a sigh of relief.

“Can you tell me which direction he went?”

The guy pulled out a piece of paper, scribbling down an address before handing it to Dean.

“The Sandpiper? What is that? A bar?”

Not for the first time, Dean wondered what Sam had been looking for. They had never been to Duluth before and as far as he was aware, they didn’t know anybody living here.

“Yeah, it’s a bar down by the waterfront. Said he was looking for a girl working there...”

“Thank y-”

A girl. Working in a bar. Related to hunters...

Without shooting the guy another glance, Dean rushed through the door towards the waiting Impala. He barely checked the address on the map before taking off so fast that he left black tire marks in the driveway of the gas station.

He prayed to God that he was wrong, that it wasn’t Jo who Sam was after. But his gut wrenching feeling told him that it was and that he wouldn’t forgive himself if he was too late.

~*~

It had been more than a week since Duluth and Dean had spent more time awake at night than asleep. When Sam was asking, he simply replied that it was the pain in his shoulder keeping him from getting some Zs. But that wound has started healing and was not more than a throb from time to time.

No, it was something else that kept Dean awake. Whenever he closed his eyes, he was back in that bar in Duluth - with Jo tied to that post and Sam, or at least what looked like his brother, was threatening her with a knife.

The moment Dean had pushed through the door and had took in that image that would forever be etched into his mind... It had almost felt like his heart had stopped beating when he had checked Jo over for any injuries before addressing Sam.

She had seemed to be alright concerning the circumstances, at least no visible blood or bruises besides one on her forehead. But he sure as hell noticed the way she was looking at Sam. Dean knew that one didn’t scare Jo Harvelle just like that. Something must have happened before he had arrived.

Even all those days later, Dean couldn’t stop thinking about it. Sam had admitted several times that he couldn’t remember what he had said or done to Jo. And it wasn’t like this eased any of those images that kept popping into his head. Despite Sam being obsessed in that moment, some things he wouldn’t be able to forgive him just like that. So he hoped for his brother’s and his own sake that the demon had taunted Jo just with words..

Dean turned around in the motel bed, trying to ignore Sam’s snoring, when he recalled the last words he had said to Jo.

_“I’ll call you later, okay?”_

He knew he wouldn’t. He had to make sure that Jo was safe, at least as far as it was in his hands - and that meant one thing: He had to keep away from her. It had been in the moment, when he had walked out of that bar, that Dean had decided that he wouldn’t be able to live with the consciousness of being responsible if anything happened to her. Because seeing her there, the knife at her throat, had ripped something inside him. And that was more than just a brotherly urge to protect her.

The only way Dean could show her how much she really meant to him, was by staying away - no matter how much it hurt himself.

~*~

Dean had lost count of how many drinks he already had tonight. Sam had gone back to the motel quite a while ago and even though Dean had promised him to be there soon as well, he hadn’t moved at all - besides knocking back his drinks and looking at his cell phone lying next to the empty shot glass. He had been at this point a few times this year, but only once he had successfully numbed those feelings in his chest, only being left with soft nothingness.

By now his fingers had stopped shaking as he finally grabbed his phone, opening the contacts list. He knew exactly how far down her name was. When he reached her entry, all he had to do was press ‘call’.

He wanted to hear her voice again, wanted to tell her that he had made that deal to safe Sammy, wanted to tell her that he only had two months left - and maybe even what he felt for her and that he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

He didn’t call. Instead he ordered another drink and let his eyes wander over to that blonde girl at the other end of the bar.

~*~

Nursing the small bottle of whiskey he had nicked in the shop earlier, Dean was sitting in the Impala, hidden away in the shadow of the building to make sure he wouldn’t be noticed. He had his eyes on the old Ford truck parked in the motel’s parking lot on the other side of the road.

It had taken him some time to find her, but he needed to see her with his own eyes; needed to see that she was still doing okay after he had returned from Hell last September.

Downing the last drop of the whiskey, Dean almost felt confident enough to get out of the car, walk over and knock on her door.

However, when he reached for the handle of the driver’s side door, he could see Jo emerging from her room. And, despite noticing a kind of rough edge to her, she was even more beautiful than in his memories.

Dean didn’t move as Jo crouched to check something on her right boot. He couldn’t see it clearly due to the distance and darkness (and maybe the amount of alcohol he had already consumed tonight), but he was sure that she was hiding a holster with a knife in it. Not any knife, but the one he had ridiculed at first before she had told him about her father.

Swallowing against the sudden lump in his throat, Dean was frozen to the seat when he watched Jo get into her truck and drive off. A strong urge inside his chest told Dean to follow her, maybe just keeping an eye on her to make sure she would be okay with whatever job she was working on right now.

In the end, however, she disappeared around the corner and he still didn’t move.

A couple hours later, Dean found himself on the couch at Bobby’s again. He couldn’t remember driving all the way back, his thoughts mingled with memories and day dreams; basically coming up with an alternative life for him and Jo. He knew though that it would never be more than a dream.

At a certain point he lost his fight against sleep, soon finding himself in the nightmare that just wouldn’t leave him alone.

Tonight however, it wasn’t him on the rack, crying for mercy - it was Jo, pleading with him while he carved and sliced up her flesh.

~*~

“Hi, Jo.”

“Hey...”

Ever since walking out of the bar in Duluth, he was looking into Jo’s eyes for the first time again. The circumstances were terrible and Dean knew that Ellen sure wouldn’t approve of him if he pulled Jo close and never let go again. After all, there had been a reason why she had slapped him earlier. He knew that he deserved it.

Right now, Dean could only hope that it wouldn’t be years again before he could once again hear Jo’s voice...

~*~

“Are you giving me the ‘Last night on Earth’ speech?”

“What?”

“What?”

“No! No... If I was, woul-would that work?”

“No... Sweetheart, if this is our last night on Earth, then I’m gonna spend it with a little thing I call self-respect...”

~*~

Dean couldn’t find any sleep. This time however, it wasn’t because of any nightmares, but he simply couldn’t stop thinking about the upcoming day. After all, there was a small chance this crazy plan would work and they could still stop the Apocalypse...

His thoughts came to a sudden halt, when Dean heard the door to his room being opened. Reflexes made him reach for the gun under his pillow before he recognized the petite shadow as Jo.

Letting out a breath of relief, Dean watched her closing the door again and walking up to his bed. There was enough moonlight shining through the window for him to see that she was just wearing a tank-top and shorts; and a flannel shirt draped over her shoulders that looked pretty much like the one he had left lying around Bobby’s living room a few days ago.

For a long moment, Jo just stood there, not moving. Dean was sure she would turn around again any second and pretend she had never come in here. Instead she took one more step towards him, stretching her arm out before letting her hand run through Dean’s hair. The soft touch made Dean sigh heavily, relaxing into it for a moment before looking at her again.

“What happened to that little thing called self-respect?”

Dean wasn’t sure if his voice was usually that deep as well, but he didn’t care. This could all be a dream and yet he would take it as a gift.

“I still believe in it. That’s not... I mean... I couldn’t...”

Dean reached for Jo’s hand, their fingers intertwining.

“If this is our last night on Earth... will you just hold me?”

A rare insecurity, maybe even some hidden fear of their unknown fate, took hold of Jo’s voice.

Dean just wanted it to be gone. He wanted to pull her close, taste her lips and tell her over and over again that it wouldn’t matter what would happen tomorrow.

Instead, he gently wrapped his arm around her waist, slowly guiding her down onto the bed with him. Jo pressed herself as closely to his body as possible, with Dean’s arms keeping her in a strong hold. It was only in the moment when Dean pulled up the blanket around them that Jo released the breath she had been holding.

Dean could feel her face against his chest and never before had anything felt so right to him. Pressing a kiss into Jo’s hair, Dean didn’t give a fuck about the last night on Earth because he already held Heaven in his arms.

~*~

Less than 24 hours later, Dean held Jo close again. This time however, he gently kissed her cold and clammy forehead before looking into her eyes.

He wanted to say so many things, wanted to take away her pain; and if there had been even the tiniest sliver of the possibility of trading with her, taking her place and wounds, he would have done it without hesitating a single moment.

But it wasn’t just him. There were so many things he could see in her eyes - chances they had fly by past them, chances that would now never come to life.

Dean pulled her in one last time, laying his lips on hers, tasting her tears, hoping she understood what he wanted to say. The fact that their first real kiss would also be their last, would leave a scar on his heart for the rest of his life.

He didn’t want to let go of her, didn’t want to let her go. Their foreheads touched in a loving gesture, maybe saying so much more than words could do. Swallowing down his own tears, he finally pulled away with a soft ‘okay’.

Only a few minutes later, the bomb went off. It did not only destroy the building, but put a hole in Dean’s soul. It would never be healed.

~*~

Jo and Ellen deserved a real hunter’s funeral, but there was nothing for them to burn. Except for their family picture from last night. They had feared what might happen in the unknown, but only now the survivors realized that it was way worse.

They had given their lives to give Dean a shot at the devil - and it hadn’t worked.

The ashes of the burnt picture hadn’t even dissolved completely, with all of them still lingering in Bobby’s living room and nursing heavy alcohol. Day had turned into night, when Dean suddenly got up from his position on the floor. Without saying a word, he made his way over to the door, its banging sound echoing through the silent house.

Sam wanted to follow him, making sure his brother wouldn’t do anything stupid, but Bobby stopped him in his tracks.

“Let him be, son.”

The younger Winchester hesitated for one more moment, before he nodded and sat back down.

In the meantime, Dean stumbled through the dark salvage yard. He couldn’t say when it had started to rain or why the shadows looked like hiding monsters in the night.

The only thing he could feel was that burning feeling in his chest that hurt more and more with every passing moment. At a certain point his feet couldn’t go on any more. He fell to his knees on the muddy ground, his hands trying to find something to hold onto, but there was nothing.

It was just him, alone, hurt. The hot tears on his face mixed with the cold rain as the mumbled the words he hadn’t been able to say before.

“I love you, Jo...”

~*~

“So everybody gets a slice of paradise?”

“Pretty much. Few people share, special cases.”

“What do you mean ‘special’?”

“Ah, you know, like... soulmates.”

~*~

Dean couldn’t stop thinking about Ash’s words. They kept repeating over and over again in his mind. And there was one thing in particular that Dean couldn’t let go of.

“What do you think happened to Ellen and Jo if they are not in Heaven?”

“What?”

Sam looked up from his laptop, his face showing worry and confusion when his eyes settled on Dean.

His older brother was sitting on the unmade motel room bed, a half empty bottle of whiskey in front of him as well as his gun, which he had just finished cleaning a moment ago.

“If Ellen and... Jo... are not in Heaven...”

“Dean, stop it.

It was only now that Dean met Sam’s eyes. They had been at this point before and he could see the reflection of his shattered heart in his younger brother’s look.

“Just because Ash hadn’t seen them yet, it doesn’t mean they’re not in Heaven. Where else would they be? They were good people and died for a good cause. There is no reason why they should be in Purgatory or-”

“Don’t say it!”

Pictures of a long suppressed nightmare made their way into Dean’s mind, but he immediately dismissed them. He refused to accept the possibility of her being in Hell. It simply couldn’t be.

Without saying another word, Dean grabbed the whiskey bottle as well as the keys to the Impala and before Sam could do anything to stop him, he was out of the door.

~*~

So this was it. This was the white picket fence, suburban life he had thought would be his dream. And even though it had been a good place to rest, to let things sink in, Dean had felt this constant itch inside his skin. It wasn’t exactly that he had missed the life of being a hunter, of being out there on the road, but on the other hand he wasn’t made for this.

And Dean had really tried. He had tried to be a good father figure for Ben and a loving partner for Lisa. At a certain point he had to admit though that would always only be trying...

In the end it had only be an attempt at blocking his past as he kept on telling himself that this was the right thing to do. However, in those sleepless nights, when he had held Lisa close, he had always thought that she didn’t feel completely right. She was a beautiful woman, but there was this tiny piece missing that would really make them fit.

When Dean was driving down the road, leaving Lisa’s house behind him in the rear-view mirror, he realized that during all those months he had never said those three words she had wanted to hear from him. He just couldn’t say it - because it would have been a lie.

~*~

Unable to move, bound to the chair, Dean noticed that he was shaking slightly. Just a moment ago he had waited in front of that bar, waiting for Mia to finish her shift. It would have been the first time since... And of course, she looked a bit like her; maybe a bit more pimped up and bustier, but similar cheeky smile and golden hair. He had been nervous, trying to talk some confidence into himself, and the next thing he knew was sitting in this chair. In front of him a guy in black judge’s robe and Egyptian museum vibe around them.

~*~

“Prosecution calls Joanna Beth Harvelle to the stand.”

Just hearing her full name made Dean’s heart beat quicker - only to see her appear next to Osiris. His mind immediately told him that it couldn’t be true, that there was no way. And yet, there she was. Maybe looking a bit faded, but it was her. His Jo...

“Jo?”

“Dean...”

Her voice... It had been too long since he had heard it and, despite the circumstances, it was the sweetest sound he had heard in years.

His mind was reeling as he watched and listened to Osiris asking Jo about her relationship to him. He wanted to rush over to her, pull her in for a kiss and never let go again. But he was still bound to this chair, unable to do anything.

Memories over memories kept coming up, bitter sweet, all still hurting. Dean knew exactly what Jo meant when she said that as a guy he had been kind of a jerk. A jerk unable to admit his feelings, trying to push her away in an attempt to keep her safe. An attempt he had failed in, massively.

Yet, he had to fight the excuse of a smile when Jo almost started fighting with Osiris, not wanting to give into his crap. That was just like he remembered her, just like his girl...

There was even a tiny spark of hope burning in his chest as Sam started to ask Jo his own questions. His little brother made sure to push the matter of Jo’s ‘daddy issues’ to Osiris, but the Egyptian god didn’t seem fazed. Instead he just waved his hand judgementally and made Jo disappear - but not before she once again looked at Dean.

“Listen Dean, I don’t-”

~*~

Osiris had found him guilty and sentenced him to death. He had given them time to ‘bring his affairs in order’, but Dean wanted this over and done with. He was tired, drained, and maybe small part of him wondered if maybe this was the way to really be reunited with Jo.

Sam was already working on a plan on saving Dean, but he didn’t share his little brother’s enthusiasm.

So as soon as Sam left him in the motel room, rushing to get the ram’s horn to stop Osiris, Dean felt the shift in the air. He didn’t move at first, ignoring Sam’s earlier pleas to defend himself, before he finally pulled out the rock salt and poured a circle around him. He could already feel her presence in the room. Sighing, he closed his eyes.

“You can come out now.”

“You know I’d never do this.”

“I know.”

She slowly walked around him. He would just need to reach out to touch her, but he knew that it would probably in vain, his hand simply slipping through her presence. When he looked up, looked into her beautiful eyes, he noticed the first tears in his own.

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. You deserve better.”

“No, you did. You deserved better, Jo...”

Dean folded his arms, he didn’t want to show her how much he was shaking. He never took his eyes off of her though.

“You carry all kinds of crap you don’t have to, Dean. Kind of gets clearer when you’re dead.”

“Well, in that case you should be able to see that I’m... 90% crap. I get rid of that, what then?”

“You really want to die not knowing?”

Jo hesitated for a moment, looking away as if something had distracted her.

“Dean?”

“Yeah...”

“It’s time.”

Dean watched Jo materializing over to the shabby stove in the small motel kitchen. She turned the knobs and immediately there was the hissing sound of emerging gas.

Instantly pictures from that dreadful day in that hardware store popped up in Dean’s mind, pictures of him putting together the bomb... In that moment he knew what Osiris had in mind for him - he was supposed to die the same way he had sealed Jo’s fate.

When Jo turned around to look at him again, Dean could see the anguish in her face. She was fighting an internal battle, feeling that she was about to lose it. And all Dean could do was looking on; the tears in his eyes blurring his sight.

Jo materialized back in front of him.

“Come on, Dean. I used to hunt ghosts. I know the tricks.”

Suddenly the temperature in the room dropped, making Dean shiver, as the window started to freeze and finally shatter. A chilly gust of wind blew into the room - destroying the ring of salt around Dean.

Before he could reach for the salt container again, he felt a sudden movement and found Jo standing right in front of him.

A part of him was waiting to feel her warmth and smell her unique scent, but all he had was her ghostly presence, looking at him with pain and sadness.

“He’s making me do this...”

Dean could hear the tears in her voice and he wished that there was anything he could do to make them disappear.

“It’s okay...”

With a shaky hand, Jo reached for the pocket in Dean’s shirt, pulling out the lighter he always carried in there.

Swallowing against the lump in his throat, Dean looked at Jo. Here he was again - in an ugly similar situation and he couldn’t say it. Couldn’t tell her that everything would be alright, that he didn’t blame and that he loved her.

Something shifted in Jo’s look. Pain was replaced by melancholy and warmth. A small smile appeared on her lips as she lay her hand against Dean’s cheek in a deeply loving gesture.

Dean closed his eyes, leaning into the touch that didn’t feel ghostly at all. It was warm and soft. He never wanted to let her go again.

He waited for the explosion and the burning heat, but instead he heard the sound of the lighter hitting the floor.

When he opened his eyes again, she was gone.

~*~

Dean looked over the river at which they had stopped after leaving town. He could barely feel the coolness of the beer can in his hand. His mind was very far away.

He noticed something moving next to him. It was Sam who came to rest, leaning against the hood of the Impala.

For a long moment, they shared the silence. Dean knew that Sam had questions for him, but he was very thankful that his little brother kept them at bay.

However, there was one thing he needed to say, knowing it would better to tell it now than in a more awkward situation.

“You know... I didn’t fight her...”

“Dean?”

“I knew what was supposed to happen and I didn’t do anything to stop her. Maybe a part of me actually wanted her to do it.”

Sam was stunned into silence, realizing how close he had actually come to lose Dean last night.

After several minutes of them not saying anything, Sam finally finished the rest of his beer, swallowing hard.

“Well, I’m glad it turned out alright.”

Dean didn’t answer, but Sam hadn’t even expected him to.

~*~

Dean knew he was dying. He was losing blood rapidly despite Sam’s efforts to stop the bleeding from the lethal wound in his chest.

“Sam, hold up... hold up...”

Any strength he had have, had left his body. He knew his time was up. Leaning against the barrister behind him, Dean struggled to look at Sam.

“I gotta say something...”

“What?”

“I’m proud of us...”

Keeping his eyes steady on Sam’s face, Dean noticed his vision fading, before he finally gave in.

He found himself in a bright light, all his pain gone when he suddenly heard the sweetest voice he knew.

“It’s too soon, my love...”

Dean wanted to reach out to her, wanted to say something, but the light disappeared and all there was left, was darkness.

~*~

“Well, I would call this a win. Kind of nice. Going out on a high...”

“Going out being the operative phrase.”

“Sorry.

“You’re sorry...” Sam laughed sadly. “How sorry are you? Sorry that you fight to keep Donatello alive, but when it comes to you, you just throw in the towel?”

“Sam...”

“You’re telling me that I have to kill you because you see no other way out? You do remember what Jo-”

“Sam, don’t. Don’t say it.”

“She told you to _make it later_. If you’re not willing to fight for yourself, fight for us, at least have the decency to fight for her...”

~*~

The light was as bright and warm as he remembered it. He hated to admit it that where there had been pain before, there he was feeling peace now.

“Dean...”

It wasn’t the voice he had been expected. Slowly but surely the light dimmed and Dean was able to open his eyes. When he realized who he was facing, he groaned in frustration.

“Chuck? Seriously? I don’t think I can make it through another loop hole. Haven’t I done enough? Haven’t I died enough times to finally deserve some peace?”

Chuck didn’t faze at the anger in Dean’s voice, but there was a soft smile on his face.

“I am aware of this, Dean. I’ve always been aware. I know I threw test over test at you, but you fought your way through all of them. And you will rest in peace now. I just wanted to make sure that two lonely parts found their way to be whole again...”

Dean watched Chuck’s image fade back into the light as he suddenly felt a warm and soft hand reaching for his own.

After all, soulmates got to share their piece of Heaven.


End file.
